Amy's head was pounding painfully, her very brain throbbing within its skull. The woman tried to open her eyes, yet she found it incredibly hard to do. Her eyelids felt as though they had been laced with lead, keeping her from opening them for more than a second at best. She went to move her hands, trying to rub the ache away in her temple, yet her left hand slapped against something hard. Bright white flashed behind her eyelids at the sudden sharp pain and she gasped, her eyes finally flying open.

At first, she couldn't understand what she was seeing. Everything was a blur, yet even as her vision cleared she still couldn't make out what she was looking at. She blinked and squinted as objects began to take shape. What was once nothing more than a black, fuzzy line soon became that of the bottom of a steering wheel. Her brow furrowed, her mind working to process the situation. She was in a car. Why was she in a car?

Amy looked around herself, trying to regain her barring and figure out exactly where she was. Outside the open sunroof were leaves and branches, leaving her further confused. Had she been in a car wreck? She couldn't remember driving, yet she was in the driver's seat. Now that she really looked, Amy came to the odd realization that she was actually buckled into the seat upside down.

"Amy?"

The woman's face scrunched in even further confusion at the small, unfamiliar voice. She turned her head towards the sound, but had to take a few settling moments to fight back the wave of disoriented dizziness that flooded over her before she could see again. Seated on the floorboard of the passenger seat was a little boy, his eyes wide in terror and face covered in drying mud as he watched her. Blood still gently seeped from a gash across his right eyebrow.

"Tim..?" The moment the name left her lips, memories of what had happened overtook her. They had been attacked by a Tyrannosaur, which had pushed their car over the side of a cliff and into its enclosure. Amy's heart began to beat rapidly, causing her headache to pulse painfully and a searing, high pitched ringing crowded her eardrums. The battered woman rose up in her seat, wincing at the pain in her back and limbs as she ducked under the steering wheel. She could move only so much before her body gave out and she had to relax, her bruised shoulder blades keeping her up against the hard wheel. "Oh my God, Timmy," she breathed out. "Are you okay?"

"I threw up," was the young boy's pitiful murmur. Amy swallowed thickly and breathed deeply, trying desperately to calm herself so as to not further scare the child that was stuck with her. The woman reached over and she gently ran her hand through Tim's hair, trying to comfort him through the fearful tears that threatened to overtake her.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it's okay." She was trying to sound comforting, yet the crack in her voice betrayed her and tears began to appear in Tim's own wide, innocent eyes. Suddenly, a voice could be heard from outside, calling out their names. "Alan?" Amy called, wincing at the throb in her head and the burn in her throat at her own yelling. "Alan, we're here!"

"Alright, I'm coming up to get you! Don't move!"

"Okay," Amy answered, but she didn't think he heard her. It was getting harder and harder to keep her emotions under control. Warm tears began to spill down her cheeks and she quickly wiped them with the back of her hands. Amy gasped as another hot pain took her by great surprise. Her left wrist was terribly swollen and discolored, an ugly knot forming around the base of her thumb. She bent and swirled her thumb, hissing at the pain but relieved that it didn't seem broken. At least, not badly broken. She couldn't be sure there wasn't a fracture, but at least she could still somewhat move it.

"You're hurt," Timmy whined and hiccuped, the eight year old now beginning to cry. Amy panicked, shaking her head rapidly.

"No, baby, no, I'm okay! See?" She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers, hiding her pained wince through gritted teeth. "Tip top shape! In fact, I bet I could make a balloon animal with these fingers. Would you like that? Well, I need to learn how to make a balloon animal first, but I'm sure you could help me. Can you help me with that?" Tim sniffed and nodded, wiping at his puffy eyes with a dirty fist. Amy offered a gentle smile, yet it was gone as soon as it came, replaced by a near scream when Alan suddenly appeared in the open window next to her. When she saw it was only him, Amy let out an incredible sigh and mumbled a, "thank God."

"Are you okay?" Alan asked carefully, opening the door to the car slowly. He was trying not to startle the two inside any further.

"I threw up," Tim grumbled, now resting his little head against the car's seat. Amy's heart ached at the sight and she began to worry greatly over the child's condition.

Alan swallowed and nodded, his wide blue eyes betraying his displayed confidence. "Oh... That's okay. I'm gonna get you two out of here." He turned his attention to Amy. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she quickly assured him with a wave of her good hand. Even though she said she was fine, Amy could tell by the look on his face that she wasn't doing a very good job at actually being fine. She was still somewhat crying and her body shook terribly. "I just need to, uh," her eyes landed on her seat belt, which continued to hold her tightly to her seat. Without a thought, Amy clicked the belt loose. The missing restraint instantly resulted in the woman sliding down and she plopped hard onto the floorboard. Her nose smashed against her knees, the audible

!' echoing within her head as searing pain momentarily blinded her. The car jostled in place from her sudden fall and all three people froze. After a few seconds, everything settled.

"Alright, let's stay calm. Just take my hand," Alan reached out his hand to Amy, to which she gratefully accepted. Alan pulled her from the floorboard of the car and she began to crawl out. When Amy saw the steep drop below her, though, her vision hazed and she grew terribly sick. Before she realized what she was doing, the horrified woman was shaking her head and shrinking away from Alan, shaking his hand away from her with a surprising aggression. Her great fear of heights overran everything else in her mind, and yet, she was utterly unable to keep her eyes off of the daunting ground below.

"Wait, we're in a tree? No, no, no, no," her begging weeped into the night sky, the sudden change taking the male paleontologist aback. "Alan... Alan, no. I can't do this. Bitte süßer Jesus, lass mich das nicht tun!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Alan countered, trying to get the panicked woman to focus on him. He cupped his large hands against her bloodied cheeks and forced her face towards his own, yet she would not look at him. Amy's eyes were wild with fright and they swirled around her head rapidly, unable to look at solely one thing. He tapped the sides of her face firmly. "Amethyst! Amethyst, hey, look at me!" When her brown, bloodshot eyes finally met his, Alan nearly lost his own mental grounding.

Amy looked like a caged, wounded animal, completely horrified by the confusing and cruel world around her. When she looked at him and she took in his features, though, his deep grey-blue eyes and handsome, determined face, Amy was able to relax into his palms. She began to sob, then, all fight in her completely disappearing. "Alan, I can't do this, I can't!"

"Yes you can. Just keep your eyes focused on me and don't look down. You're going to be alright." Amy sniffled, her hands coming up to grip Alan's wrist tightly within her own small fist. After a moment, she nodded.

Just like before, Alan began to guide Amy from the car and out into the open night air, although far more slowly this time. His right hand remained set on her face, forcing her from unintentionally looking down while his left hand gently pulled her forward by her arm. Amy kept her gaze strictly on his eyes alone, allowing herself to trust that he would not let her drop.

Alan could tell that she was still unsure. The hand that cradled her face was held tightly by her own, small fingers tensed with fearful anticipation. For the moment, at least, she was cooperating. When Alan began his instructions on where she was to place her feet on the branch, her trust diminished. Instantly, Alan could feel her fight against him and she began to jerk away, her breathing spiking, yet his grip on her arm only tightened. "No, no," he eased, his eyes snapping back to hers. "You're doing good. I got you."

"You do? You promise?"

"I promise. Amy, I won't let you fall." Still, she hesitated. The hand that held his wrist was still pushing against him, struggling against his hold. The car swayed within the trees and Alan knew they had to get down and get down fast. In a split decision, Alan leaned forward, suddenly touching his forehead to hers and bringing his eyes mere millimetres away from her own. The two remained this way for many moments. Amy found herself trapped under his intense gaze, an odd feeling catching in her throat as she tried to remember to breathe properly. Alan thought about what he could possibly say or do to calm her, then his lips twitched up into a small smirk. "You don't think I'd lie to you, do you?" With those few, simple words, the recognition of their late conversation from the night before settling in her mind, Amy suddenly trusted him.

Amy stepped one shaky foot onto the branch, then the other. Once she had finally made it out of the car, Amy's arms flung around Alan's waist and she clung to the man tightly. The emotionally exhausted woman sank to a crouch and she buried her face into the thick fabric of his pant legs, her muscles twitching with her violent tremors as she repeated a silent mantra to herself to not look down. "Alright, Tim," Alan called, leaning into the car as much as he could without startling the woman at his legs. "Your turn. Give me your hand."

The boy made no move to do such a thing. Instead, he stared blankly at the older male. Alan leaned in further, laying a hand on the steering wheel to steady himself. "Tim, I won't tell anyone you threw up. Just give me your hand-" his words were cut off as the steering wheel turned abruptly, momentarily causing him to stumble. Tim blinked dully for a few seconds more. Then, he took Alan's hand and the two began to exit the vehicle. "That's it, that's it. Here, I got you."

"Don't pull me too hard," Tim whined lightly, but continued to follow after Alan with far more ease than what Amy had. The car swayed as their weight shifted, causing the tree to shake and Amy groaned, feeling very nauseous.

Finally, all three were out of the car. Now all that was left to do was to actually get out of the tree. Alan picked up Tim and sat him on a lower branch, yet he was unable to move much himself as Amy still clung to his legs. "Hey, it's not too bad, right Timmy?" Alan questioned. He hoped encouragement from the boy would help Amy in some way. To his vexation, Tim did not understand.

"Yes it is," the kid bit back.

"It's just like a treehouse. Did your dad ever build you a treehouse, Tim?"

"No."

Alan blinked, annoyed that his plan had failed. "Yeah, me too," he huffed. Trying for another, more firm tactic, Alan leaned down to eye-level with Tim and instead started spitting out instructions. "Okay, the thing about climbing is you never never look down-"

"This is impossible. How are we going to get down?"

"I'm going to help you with your footing-"

Amy shook her head frantically. "Alan, we can't do this, we can't-"

There was a loud creak, followed by popping and cracking, and all three stopped mid-argument. They looked up, eyeing the car with suspicion. The car inched down, the weighted thing beginning to slide against the hold of the branches. Alan sighed with an exhausted, sarcastic roll of his eyes. "Oh, no. Amy, Tim, go!"

Amy gasped, a new fear arising within her, one that luckily trumped her fear of heights. She let go of Alan and the three began scaling down the tree, their hands and feet slipping dangerously as they went. The loud snaps of the branches above them increased as they bowed and broke against the mass of metal. A rather large branch bent and splintered until finally giving way, allowing the car to fall. Alan braced himself for the impact and Amy screamed, both waiting for their bodies to be crushed by the falling vehicle. Luckily, the car had caught on another branch. Once they realized nothing had happened and they had not been hit, they continued climbing down, a completely new haste to their movements.

Amy could feel her glass-cut hands ripping and tearing further, the burning tingle making it hard for her to get a grip on the tree as she dropped from branch to branch. In the back of her head, Amy was completely sure that this was how she would die; a painful, terrifying death at the hands of her greatest phobia. However, the overwhelming snaps from above urged her on, despite the continued fumbles that brought her closer and closer to death. Now the car was falling, none of the branches able to stop the thing as it chased the three down the tree's side. Amy had no idea how close they were to the ground or even how high they were to begin with, yet when she heard Alan yell, "jump!" she did.

Amy hit the ground hard, the air forced out of her lungs as her chest collided with a thick tree root. She had no time to regain her air as Alan grabbed her by her arm and dragged her back to her feet, pushing for her and Tim to run. She did, her legs blindly following Alan's orders as a loud crash rumbled the ground. The car had smashed front-first against the giant roots where Amy had landed mere seconds before. Then, there was an eerie creaking from behind as the car began to topple over. In a split second decision, Alan hooked his arms around Amy's and Tim's waists and he dragged them to the ground, throwing his own body over them as the car continued to fall. With an ear-breaking bang, the three were bathed in darkness.

Amy wasn't sure how long it took her to realize that they had not been crushed. The woman stared up at the trunk of the car, laying on her back against the dirt ground. Her chest heaved as she gasped, her entire body tingling like TV static. Cold sweat bellowed from her brow, yet her body felt too hot. Amy tried to move, yet there was a heavy pressure digging into her stomach and she grunted uncomfortably. The first thought to cross her mind was that she must have been impaled by something, but when she felt the pressure shift she realized it was the body of Tim laying against her own.

Amy instantly hugged the boy to her chest, burying her face into his dirty hair desperately. She pulled his head back, took a good and quick look at his face, then brought him back to her chest. "Jesus, Timmy, are you okay?" Amy couldn't seem to stop moving, her hands now rubbing his shoulder blades and back and arms. She had to feel that Tim was actually there - that he was alive and safe within her arms. "You're okay?"

"Well... we're back... in the car again," the boy gasped, his chest thundering against her own.

"At least you're not in the tree." With Alan's sarcastic words, Amy found herself laughing. She couldn't help it. She threw her head back against the hard floor and she laughed loud and hard, the entire situation somehow comical now in her frazzled mind. Alan rose himself up on an elbow, peering at Amy's laughing form with a raised brow. Then, he, too, began to laugh.

It was many long moments before the two could somewhat compose themselves. Their laughter slowed and Amy found herself coughing up the cloud of dust that had begun to settle. Her teary eyes blinked open, only just able to make out Alan's face through the darkness. The man and woman both paused, a calm stillness taking them over as they watched the other with a gentle gaze. Then, Alan smirked. "I think you just overcame your fear."

The woman rolled her eyes. "Not in your life."

The three crawled out from under the car and they followed Alan in complete silence. Their previous humor was now gone as shock settled in, leaving their minds blank. Amy wished she could say the same for her injuries. The woman could feel every single ache and pain in her body, every step forward quickly becoming a greater struggle. Other than her wrist, she didn't think she had broken anything else. That injury, luckily, had now numbed. It was the cuts that were really hurting her. Her bare legs and arms were all littered with broken skin held together by dried blood that cracked and seeped with every move she made. None were dangerously deep and she didn't think she would need stitches, but she didn't exactly check them very thoroughly.

Alan led the two to where Lex was waiting. The poor girl was huddled deep within a gushing storm drain, her knees clutched tightly to her chest. The moment the young girl caught sight of the three her eyes brightened and she jumped down the small ledge, racing towards them and enveloping them all into a hug. And that's how they stayed for a long time, gripping each other in a silent embrace as they came to understand the events that had just happened. Once they were able to calm themselves and trust that no one would somehow disappear, Amy took Tim to the edge of the storm drain and began to wash him off.

She dipped her hands into the freezing, rushing water, rubbing off her own dirt and grime before setting on Tim. Luckily, Tim seemed to be doing far better than what he had been when trapped in the car, for he instantly complained. Amy ignored this and she washed him still, her palms rubbing small circles against his face and arms. "I don't need to wash," he grumbled and slouched his shoulders.

"Yes you do. You'll get an infection," she said while using a clean, damp edge of her now stained shirt to dab at the cut above his eyebrow.

"But what about your hands?"

Amy paused, her eyes flickering to the ripped gashes along her palms. Then, she smiled and returned to dabbing at the boy's head. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'll still be able to make balloon animals for you." With that, she kissed her fingertips and tapped them against his cheeks and let him go. Tim grumpily wiped at the spot with the back of his hand.

Alan chuckled at the sight, coming to stand next to Amy. "Balloon animals?" he questioned, watching as the boy raced over to his sister.

"I don't exactly know how to make them, but I'm sure I can figure it out." When Amy turned to look at the man beside her, her brow furrowed and she clicked her tongue distastefully. "Your turn," she took him by the arm, guiding him to sit by the drain.

Alan followed her direction, but he did so begrudgingly. "I don't think this situation calls for a bath."

"Don't whine," Amy chastised, yet she couldn't hide the jesting smirk that formed. She took her seat on a ledge slightly slower than Alan and immediately went to work. She dipped her hands into the water then rubbed her fingers against Alan's face, repeating the process as the muck slowly began to wash away. She tried her best to ignore it, but she could feel his piercing eyes staring at her, watching her curiously. It caused a heat to flush her cheeks and she was happy it was too dark for him to notice.

"You're very calm about all of this," he noted when she stood. Amy dipped the edge of her shirt into the water, rung out the excess, then returned to the man, now dabbing the scrapes on his cheeks and head.

"We have to be calm," she hummed lowly, her eyes flickering to the children, "for them." The two children were seated against a far tree, their heads leaning against the other as they quietly chatted among themselves. "I'm trying to give them some form of normalcy."

"Yes, but you're hurt, too."

"I'm fine." Amy stopped for a moment to study the male before her, her eyes scanning for anything she could have missed. Her delicate fingers softly traced down the edges of his hairline, flowing against the ruff beginnings of a stubble along his jaw. Amy stared hard at her fingers, her mind wandering off on a completely different topic.

Quite unexpectedly, Alan's hand reached up and he held her wrist, his eyes never leaving her face. "You're shaking." Amy's eyes met his and she blinked, only now realizing how close they were to each other. She tried to swallow down the sudden dryness in her throat but failed. Before she knew it, Alan was switching places with Amy, forcing her to sit down. "Just focus on your breathing," he told her while fishing for something in his pockets. "You're going into shock."

Amy nodded, taking in a large breath through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Within a matter of seconds, her entire body had become a trembling mess once again. Her chest felt too tight, reminding her of the feeling she had back on the ledge, dangling against the upside down car seat and watching the fifty-foot drop coming closer and closer as the seatbelt dug harshly into her delicate skin. It was suddenly very hard to keep still, so she rubbed her clammy palms against her thighs and drummed her fingertips firmly into her skin. She couldn't stop thinking, yet she couldn't even make sense of everything she was thinking. The ground was coming closer all too quickly. The treetops parted, mocking her cries for help as she tumbled down to her dark death...

Alan was back at her side and he placed something cold and wet across her face. She flinched away, startled from her thoughts by the sudden feeling. "What is that?"

His hand recoiled from the frightened woman, revealing a red bandanna dripping from his fingers. He pursed his lips into a thin smile at the odd look she gave him. "I think it's your turn for a bath."

Amy stared at the man for a moment as she collected her thoughts. Then she scoffed, baffled by his audacity. "You're telling me I stained my white tank top with your blood and you had a bandanna this entire time?"

Alan snickered at that and he went back to cleaning her face. "Ah, well, the shirt was ruined anyway." His touch was surprisingly light, Amy noted. It was nice. He brushed the cloth against a cut on her cheek, following the trail of blood to the corner of her nose and pausing slightly at her lips. "I think you may have broken your nose," he said, to which Amy rolled her eyes.

"Great, I bet I look like a snaggle-nosed bloody mess."

"It's not that dramatic. At least the bleeding stopped." Alan prodded the side of her nose and she winced. He apologized, yet Amy still saw his sneaking, lopsided grin.

"Jerk," she mumbled. Once Alan finished washing the blood from her face, he turned his attention to her hands. The cuts were no longer bleeding, thankfully. However, there was still one issue. "Ouch!" Amy whacked the man's shoulder, yanking her left wrist from his grasp. "Dummer Mann. Do you enjoy causing pain?"

"Well, now, hold on. Let me see it." She eyed him suspiciously for a moment, staring him down with a flaming glare before cautiously offering her hand back. He took it, the man almost cradling her within his weather-beaten, careful hands. His eyes scanned across her bruised flesh, his calloused thumb gently prodding around the swelling. His touch was hot and her entire hand was numb, yet there was still evident pain when he reached the base of her thumb.

Amy hissed, her eyes scrunched into a painful scowl. "Masochist."

Alan snorted at the accusation. "I'm not a masochist. I'm only trying to help."

"Yes, because you can magically heal a broken wrist by poking it."

"No, but I know where the injury is now." He took the bandanna from his lap and wrung out the excess water. He then began to wrap the red fabric around her wrist and up her thumb, tethering it against her index finger tightly. "It'll be uncomfortable for a while and it's nowhere near an actual splint, but at least it'll restrict the movement of your thumb," he said while tying the cloth. Amy could hardly understand a word he said as she writhed in pain, struggling against the urge to knock the man across his pretty face.

When he had finally finished with her hand and he got her permission, Alan turned his attention to her shredded, bare legs. "If those hands start wondering, I'll show you what a German's temper really looks like, Grant," she growled, clutching her injured hand to her chest as she eyed the man. Alan scooped up a handful of water and he let it trickle from his fingers, pouring it over a rather large cut along the top of her right thigh and washing away the muck and grime. As the dried blood washed away, Amy couldn't help but to grimace and she turned her attention to the trees. Alan eyed the woman before getting another handful of water.

"Not much for blood?"

"Not much for gore."

"It's not gory, it's just a cut." Once the second handful was empty, Alan gently touched around the wound, now able to properly assess how bad it really was. The gash hardly hurt at all when compared to her wrist. Still, Amy didn't dare watch, the very idea making her queasy. Suddenly, a weak giggle bubbled up as a thought entered her mind. Alan paused in his prodding, a curious brow raised at the brunette. "What's so funny?"

"No, no," she chortled, trying to muffle the sound with the back of her hand. "It's nothing, it's just that... my parents. They wanted me to be a surgeon. Obviously, that wouldn't have worked out. I thought I'd be done seeing this type of stuff when I left Germany, and now..."

Alan pursed his lips, the indication of her unsaid words hanging heavily over their shoulders thickly. He shuffled his feet and he cleared his throat, giving her a light pat on her angle. "Well, I don't think you'll need a surgeon for this."

"Thanks, doc." Amy finally looked back to Alan, taking in his handsome, sturdy features as her mind began to wander once again. Her thoughts danced back to their first real conversation from the night before by the poolside. Amy had noticed very quickly that Alan was a laid back, sort of old-fashioned type of guy. Not exactly the type of personality she was typically attracted to. And yet, she found herself drawn to it; drawn to him. Even in the face of danger he was able to draw her in, his confidence and imperturbable tranquility having an almost warmth over her. It was definitely a pleasant surprise. He was nothing like the rough and self-centered, unrefined man she had imagined the infamous Dr. Alan Grant to be. This man was... light.

She pursed her lip as an odd, fluttering feeling beginning to bloom deep within her chest. Amy blinked and cleared her throat and straightened her back, forcing her gaze back to the kids. "We should get out of here and get the kids somewhere safe. There's no telling where Rexy went."

Alan ran a hand through his sandy hair and he nodded. "Yeah, yeah alright." His voice sounded faintly strained and it brought her attention back to him. Before he could stand, Amy reached out and she placed her hand against his cheek. She didn't even know what she was doing until she had already done it. Once she realized what had happened, she wanted to recoil away from the man and push him away. She wanted to push him away and run off far into the jungle. After all, she wouldn't have deserved anything better than getting lost in a prehistoric forest. It would be a rather poetic end, she'd admit, yet she didn't get up and run. All she did was smile.

"Thank you, Alan. The kids really needed you and... Well, I needed you. So, um, yeah... Thank you. Really."

Alan leaned up, his face becoming unexpectedly close to her own. Amy didn't even have the sense to move away as the man's smug face eyed her, his gorgeous blue eyes sparkling. "Say that again."

Amy had to take a few seconds to process exactly what he had said. When she did, Amy shoved the chuckling man away from her as she huffed harshly. "You really are a cocky bastard, huh?"

"Only when I get to be."

"Which is all the time, apparently," she mumbled. The man stood and made his way to the children, getting them up and ready to move on. Amy watched him go, that fluttering feeling never ceasing. At the same time, though, Amy felt ashamed. Here she was; trapped within a new and deadly world surrounded by humans being torn apart alive by prehistoric creatures, and she was lusting after a man in a committed relationship. Sure, it may have been nothing more than her primitive instincts looking for any way to release the terrible stress of the situation, but that didn't make her feel any less awful about it.

Amy ran her hand through her hair and she nibbled on her lip. This was getting risky, and she wasn't blaming that solely on the dinosaurs. When the other three called her over, Amy decided to ignore her impeding thoughts. Her feelings didn't matter in this moment and they wouldn't matter tomorrow, or even when they finally got off the island. The only thing that did matter was this moment, and in this moment both she and Alan had to take care of these children and make sure they survived this ordeal. That's the only thing that mattered. So, she forced down the odd, bubbly feeling and she joined the other three with a smile.